


Silent Cries

by Larubylex



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6084960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larubylex/pseuds/Larubylex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy takes interest in Clarke only to find out she has a secret, and desperately needs his help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(Clarke’s POV)  
She sat in the library, staring at the rainy snow streaking the windows. The color outside was that of gray sand, wet below the dry part that was touched by the sun. There was no sun today. Not outside, and not within Clarke. Earlier that day, she had forced herself awake twenty minutes before she had to leave for school. Her alarm hadn’t gone off so she was stuck wearing whatever was on her floor. After yanking on a pair of ripped jeans and and pulling on a jacket over a dark maroon t-shirt, she had thrown her makeup supplies into her bag and barely caught the bus. Later in the day she forced down an overcooked hot dog and downed a mini water bottle. Despite the never ending jokes from her friend Jasper and the usual sarcasm from Raven, her day was still as tasteless as the hot dog. At least it was a Friday. 

Now looking around the quiet room, she noticed a few people, reading or writing or chatting softly. It almost calmed her, but she was still angry from the previous events. She had been stranded at her school because of a faulty plan, devised by her friend Monty. She was supposed to help him with a monologue, but he didn’t show up for school. She had watched her bus drive away, waiting for the boy to call her back and tell her where his was. Apparently he had forgotten to notify her of his absence. Great. Thanks a lot. She looked down at her book. 

“Mind if I join you?” The deep voice startled her. Clarke looked up at the tall stranger, barely squinting her eyes in attempt to figure out why he wouldn’t just choose one of the many open tables. He had a warmth in his eyes that melted her cold mind. 

Not wanting him to know her mood had lightened, she answered plainly, keeping her guard up. “It’s a free country.” With a smirk, the boy eased into the chair. He looked to be a few years older than Clarke. Probably a senior. She was a sophomore. Picking up her book again, she lowered her eyes and continued to read, but her mind wandered, wondered how the boy could have such tanned skin in the middle of winter. 

“What are you reading? The freckled face said. Clarke looked at him for a few seconds before answering, “The Brave Princess and the Rebel King. It’s by Olivia Scott.

“What is it about?” He asked. 

Clarke shook her head smiling, “Can I help you with something or are you just here to bother me?” 

“What’s your name, Princess?” He laughed. 

“Clarke.” She glared at the nickname. 

“Nice to meet you Clarke, I’m Bellamy.” His smile melted her. They chatted for awhile, getting shushed several times as their conversation grew livelier. They talked about school and hobbies and the weather. Although the two never failed to make each other laugh, no matter the topic of the conversation. 

Soon, Clarke’s phone buzzed. 

“Dad and I are in an important meeting. See if you can get a ride home from someone or I can pick you up in a few hours.” Her mother, Abby, texted. Apart from being the best doctor in town, she and her husband Jake were in the town’s council. Clarke naturally spent more time with her father since Abby was usually at the hospital when she wasn’t at council meetings. Jake and Clarke were best friends and had the closest father daughter relationship you could imagine. Abby and Clarke were a bit different. Abby was always being her mother. She barely had time to talk to her. Like really talk to her. Of course Clarke loved both her parents, but she was a daddy’s girl. 

Earlier, Bellamy had moved next to Clarke in order to show her something on his phone. Now he glanced at the blonde’s phone when she held it up, not caring to conceal its message. 

“I could drive you home.” He offered simply after reading the disappointed look on her face.

“No, it’s okay, I can walk home. It’s only about a mile from here.” Clarke started packing her stuff in her backpack. 

“C’mon Princess. It hasn’t stopped snowing in three hours and you’re wearing a jean jacket. Let me drive you, it’s no trouble. Really.” She didn’t want to take his offer. She hated asking people for help and she didn’t want to owe him anything. 

“Really, I’ll be fine.” She pulled a grey beanie over her curls. Just then the wind picked up outside and a hail stone slammed into the library window. Clarke flinched at the loud bang, followed by many others. Bellamy raised his eyebrows at her. 

“Okay fine. You can drive me.” She grunted. He smiled and pulled his jacket on. 

“Okay let's go.” He nodded his shaggy haired head in the direction of the door. The two made a run for it through the quarter sized hail stones to Bellamy’s red truck. Once inside, Bellamy put on the radio and Your Song By Elton John came on. The two kids sang along, laughing and smiling. Both Clarke’s and Bellamy’s voices weren’t bad and they sounded great together. 

“Where do you live?” Bellamy laughed. 

“Just down the road here and to the left.” Clarke giggled, looking out at the hail and snow getting worse. They pulled into Clarke’s driveway and gazed at the pale yellow house, frosted in white. 

“How far away do you live? The roads are getting slippery and I don’t want you to get in an accident.” Clarke looked at him. He was still admiring the sugared lemon of a house. 

“I live up near the North End. It’s a few miles from here but I’ll be alright.” He assured her. It was getting darker by the minute. 

“Are you sure? Driving in the dark and in the snow is a bad combination.” Her eyebrows clenched together as she imagined him getting in an accident because of her. 

“I promise to drive slowly, Princess.” He grinned, reaching over her to open her door. She didn’t mind the name he had given her anymore. In the past few hours he had used it a lot and she kind of enjoyed the butterflies in her stomach when he said it. Although she snaps out of it when she remembers he is a freaking senior. A SENIOR. Ugh, why did he have to be a senior. 

“Okay.” She said sheepishly as his arm brushed her leg as he leaned back into his seat after a cold wet wind gushed in from the now open door. Clarke hopped out and slung her backpack over her shoulders. She looked at him with her icy blue eyes and said thank you with a smile that could calm a killer. Bellamy nodded and smiled back at her. 

“May we meet again.” He grinned. And with that, she pushed the door closed and walked up the steps to her front door, fully aware that Bellamy’s truck didn’t move until she was safely inside her lemon house. 

(Bellamy’s POV)  
Bellamy caught his breath and looked back at her with his deep chocolate eyes and wondered how old she was. He had wondered this before but ignored the question, thinking about how his mother always said age matters less as you get older. That qualified for high school, right? God she was so beautiful. 

“May we meet again.” He couldn’t help the wires tugging hard at the corners of his mouth. She smiled widely as she closed the door and he watched her until she was officially under the protection of her lemon house instead of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay now it starts to get good. Enjoy!

(Bellamy’s POV)  
And they did meet again. And again, and again. It became a routine for the two to meet in the library after school, and for Bellamy to drive Clarke home afterwards.  
One Friday afternoon as Bellamy drove away from the blonde he had grown fond of, his grin went sour when a squirrel ran in front of his truck causing him to step hard on the brakes. The truck skidded to a halt just four feet away from the terrified creature. He beeped his horn and rolled down the window, letting a burst of freezing air into the warm vehicle.  
“HEY.” He shouted, seeing his foggy breath disappear into the cold. The squirrel was caught in the headlights and wouldn’t move. Finally Bellamy had no choice but to stepped out of the truck to scare the fluffy being away so he didn’t have to hit it.

“Damn squirrel.” He thought aloud, watching the squirrel sprint away as Bellamy took a step closer. The next thought that came to his mind was somewhere along the lines of, “What the fucking hell just happened” when the side mirror of a car door clipped his arm as it sped away into the darkness. Bellamy fell hard on the icy road, slamming his head on the pavement. 

He awoke to familiar blonde, blotting his head with a wet cloth. He sat up quickly, and extremely confused. Ah fuck, that hurts. There was a strong pulsing in his forehead.

“Hey, hey. Lay back down.” Clarke said sternly. His shoulder hurt like hell. 

“What happened?” 

“You were clipped by a car. My parents saw you laying in the road unconscious when they came home. You must’ve hit you head on the pavement when you fell.” Clarke said, ringing out a cloth into a bowl of crimson tinted water. Finally Bellamy’s mind was stitching back together. He remembered the squirrel, and the car driving off after hitting him. Then he remembered something else; the sound of his name being yelled in a panic. “Oh my god Bellamy! What the hell happened to him??!!” It had been Clarke. He looked up at her as she dabbed his forehead again, causing him to wince a little. 

“I’m sorry.” She scrunched her nose. Her eyes were tired and pale. She didn’t look like the same Clarke he had come to know in the past two weeks. She looked pale and distraught. Her voice was a bit horse, unlike it was only a few hours ago. 

“You don’t need stitches. Just keep a bandage on it for a day or two and it’ll be fine. As for that shoulder, it’ll have to be amputated.” 

“WHAT.” Bellamy’s eyes widened. Clarke burst out laughing. 

“No it’s badly bruised but you’ll live.” She grinned at the floor. Bellamy let out a sigh of relief and smiled for letting himself be fooled. 

“I was about to murder whoever was in that damn car.” Bellamy laughed. Clarke flinched at the mention, but then let out a soft snort in agreement. 

“Thank you Clarke.” Bellamy looked at her, full of gratitude. She just smiled and looked back at him, not realizing she had her hand still holding the wet cloth to his forehead. They stayed that way for a moment until Abby called from the kitchen, “Bellamy you should stay for dinner!” 

(Clarke’s POV)  
Clarke always found herself fixing others before herself. In fact, she didn’t remember the last time she tried to fix herself. Besides the weekly patching of cuts and bruises, she never really went deeper than that. She was afraid that whatever she mended would just be broken again, so why bother. Now here she was, repairing Bellamy’s head. The way he was looking at her, she felt like he could see right through her mask. This was unsettling, so she made him laugh. She didn’t want him to see her weak or helpless, even though she knew she was. 

“So Bellamy, how old are you?” Jake asked casually. Clarke kicked her father under the table, clearly embarrassed by the question. Bellamy had never stayed for dinner before and had only briefly met Clarke’s parents. 

“I’m 18.” Bellamy answered, snickering at Clarke’s death glare to her father. “Oh god” She thought, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable. Her dad was going to ask Bellamy a bunch of invasive and questions to scare him away and the tall beautiful boy would never talk to her again. “Great”. 

As expected, the dinner went just like that. Except Bellamy didn’t seem to be at all fazed by any of Jake’s trivia. Clarke knew better than to think her new close friend would ditch her because her father was intimidating. The four just dined and laughed, and dined and laughed some more. By the time it was time for Bellamy to go home, it was around 9 O'clock. Abby offered to drive Bellamy home, but he said he could just call his sister, Octavia, to pick him up. He would get his truck in the morning. 

“We’re going to head to bed, honey. Don’t stay up too late, okay? Go right to bed when Bellamy gets picked up.” Abby kissed Clarke on the head before following Jake down the hallway. 

“Okay mom.” Clarke sat on the couch across from Bellamy, embarrassed again. 

“When did Octavia say she would pick you up?” Clarke asked. 

“She’s with her boyfriend, Lincoln. She said she would pick me up on her way home in about a half hour.” Bellamy answered, eyes glued to the family photos on the wall. Clarke wished he would stop looking at them, she was such a dork when she was little. But she remembered the good days. Before school got hard. Before she cared what people thought about her. Before she became more of a woman. Before being more woman-like ruined her life. 

“How old are you here?” Bellamy walked over to the deep blue wall. Clarke moved to stand next to him, squinting at the picture he was looking at. There was a small, grinning Clarke, in a mint green bathing suit matching the soft waves lapping at her toes, framed in silver. 

“Seven or eight. It was my birthday.” She smiled at the memory. 

“You were so adorable, what happened?” He grinned mischievously and Clarke whipped her head around to face him. 

“Heyyyy!” She laughed and rolled her eyes. She was glad to laugh, but she started to get over heated. She slid her jacket off and tossed it on the couch, forgetting why she was wearing it in the first place. 

“I love the beach, my mom used to take me and Octavia all the time.” Bellamy said, still flicking his brown eyes over the photos. 

“We go to the beach every year for my birthday, it’s always been one of my favorites too.” Clarke smiled, now moving farther down the memory wall to a picture of her as a baby, sitting in the sand. 

She pointed at the photo, “I was one here, it was my first trip to sandy oceans.” Bellamy moved closer to see where she was pointing. 

“Oh my god Clarke what happened to your wrist?!” Bellamy grabbed her hand. Startled and confused she looked down at her wrist. It was covered in black and blue fingerprints and was swollen. Suddenly she was filled with regret and Clarke wanted to smack herself for forgetting. She yanked her hand away and shoved it behind her back. Just as her brain remembered so did her nerves and her wrist throbbed with pain again. With her non injured hand she pinched her nose tightly. What the hell am I supposed to do know? He knows. He knows. He knows. 

“Clarke…” 

She sat down, holding her wrist in her hand. There was no way she could hide it now. Bellamy knelt down in front of her, carefully sliding his hands under hers. 

(Bellamy’s POV)  
“What happened?” Bellamy searched her eyes but she wouldn’t look at him. Earlier that day at the library she had her jacket off and he didn’t see a scratch on her. Now he held her small hands, quivering and one battered. She is usually home alone when he drops her off, and today was no exception. Did someone stop buy after he left, before her parents came home? Those were 100% hand and finger marks on her wrist. She couldn’t have done that to herself, her wrist was swollen for crying out loud. And there was no way her parents did this to her. From what he’d seen, Clarke had a bond with her parents stronger than most babies do with their mothers. A single salty tear dripped down the girl’s cheek and onto Bellamy’s hand, sliding down his skin. He imagined Clarke’s scratchy voice caused by screaming as a death grip was tightened around her wrist, leaving dark marks and memories. He shivered with anger at the thought. Bellamy lifted her quivering chin up so Clarke would look at him. When she did, all he saw was pain. He saw what looked like years and years of pain. Bellamy’s stomach twisted and his heart ached. 

“He…” She quivered, before shaking her head away again. 

“Who is he?” Bellamy gritted his teeth. Just then the doorbell rang. Clarke wiped her cheek, cleared her throat, and stood up, grabbing her jacket. 

“Your sister is here.” And just like that, she slid her mask on so effortlessly. She walked to the door with Bellamy on her heels.

“Clarke.” He pleaded. But she just opened the door, cutting him off. 

She barely smiled at the girl waiting outside the door as she ushered Bellamy out. She hurriedly instructed him to keep ice on his head and to take it easy before she attempted to close the door. He held it open with his arm and stared hard into her eyes. 

“Clarke.” He would be dammed if he let her shut him out. He was absolutely positive she was in trouble and he was absolutely positive he was going to kill the bastard who left his unwelcomed mark on her. Bellamy glanced at his sister. 

She knew that face. “I’m going to wait in the car…” Octavia looked between the two, and hurried down the steps. 

Clarke let go of the door and let it swing open under Bellamy’s pressure. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, blocking him out. 

“I’m fine.” She said sternly. Bellamy didn’t believe her for a second. 

“How on earth are you fine?! Are you hurt in other places? Who the fuck did that to you?!” Bellamy was almost yelling. 

(Clarke’s POV)  
“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down.” Clarke hissed. She worriedly glanced back into the house, hoping to god her parents didn’t hear that. She looked at him. His jaw was set, his dark eyes were intense. It was hopeless. He was never going to let this go.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are going to hate me for this I know this is so short. It was supposed to be apart of the second chapter. I promise that the third chapter will be up sometime this weekend. I have been super busy with school, I'm so sorryyyy. <3

Chapter 2.5  
(Both POVs)  
“Bellamy, go. Just go.” Clarke pleaded with him. She didn’t want to drag him into this. She knew he wanted to help but this was way over his head. He had no idea what was really going on. The boy looked at her with pain in his eyes. 

“I need to know that you are going to be okay.” He had been defeated. She would not open up to him right now and there was nothing he could say or do to change that. 

“I am okay. I’ll be fine.” Clarke knew this wasn’t true but she couldn’t - wouldn’t involve him in her tangled twisted screw up of a life. She had always been able to keep her secrets from her friends and family. Why was Bellamy the closest anyone had ever been to prying them from her lips. Why him?


	4. Chapter 4

(Clarke’s POV)  
It was Saturday. Abby and Jake were away for work and wouldn’t be home until late the next day.

Clarke’s phone vibrated on her desk. She wiped her tears and wobbled over to see who was calling. She saw a picture of Bellamy grinning with dark tousled curls over his eyes. She remembered when she took this picture. It was the first day they met. That soggy day in the library. 

“He...hello?” Clarke cursed herself for stuttering under the weight of her previous hysteria. He would know immediately that she had been crying. 

“Princess? You’re crying. What happened? Are you home? Are you by yourself?!” 

Clarke just closed her eyes, but the images wouldn’t go away. 

“I’m sorry, no I’m okay. What’s up?” She tasted metal on her lip as she felt the red dribble down her chin. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
(Bellamy’s POV)  
Bellamy was bounding up the stairs to the lemon house not 10 minutes later. He didn’t knock before throwing the door open to see Clarke with an ice pack over her cheek bone and a tissue held to her lip. He just stood there for a minute, searching the rest of her body for visible bruises or injuries. 

“The door, Bell.” Clarke said quietly. 

“What?” Bellamy shook his head. “Oh yeah, sorry.” He closed the door and slowly walked over the the girl who was now resting most of her weight on the back of the couch. Bellamy reached up to investigate the ice pack wound. Then he lifted her chin, taking the tissue and wiping the still falling blood from it. He asked her all the questions with his eyes.

“Clarke, you are not okay.” Bellamy tried to hold her eyes but she looked away. He saw a tear fall from her lashes. 

“Come sit down.” Bellamy guided Clarke over to the couch and she crumpled into it, pulling a fuzzy blanket over her bare shoulders. Bellamy didn’t want to upset her further and decided to just sit with her. Be there for her. He sat on the couch and pulled the shaking blonde into him. Clarke cried silently until falling asleep in his arms. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
(Clarke’s POV)  
Her head hurt when she woke against a warm chest. She felt the soft snores of Bellamy and knew he was asleep. It was dark outside and panic set in but faded when she realized her parents wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. What time was it anyway? Slowly rising, careful to not wake up Bellamy, Clarke slid off of him. She turned to re-cover him with the fuzzy blanket even though he was sure to notice the lack of her body heat anyway. She stepped on something cold on her way to the kitchen. Looking down at the now squishy pack she grabbed it and tossed it back into the freezer. 

It was 10:26 PM. They had been asleep for almost three hours. Clarke racked her brain with what to tell Bellamy when he woke up. If she told him what was really happening, he would be involved, he would get hurt.  
Rule number one: No going out without covering all visible injuries. Maybe she could just tell him a piece of what was going on, just enough for him to understand.  
Rule number two: Never cry until he leaves. Would he find out the whole story eventually?  
Rule number three: Nobody sees, nobody knows. This is Bellamy’s life, I can’t let him get hurt because of me. 

Clarke stood in the kitchen with her hands on the counter in front of her, throat dry, dizzy. What the hell was she going to tell him?! He would never let it go. She had to tell him something that wouldn’t get him fucking killed. She trembled at the thought of her worst nightmare and favorite dream battling each other. Bellamy was strong and fearless, but Mason - she gritted her teeth, Mason was cruel and clever. Bellamy wouldn’t even have a cha… The floor creaked behind Clarke and she jumped, spinning around. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Bellamy eased forward like he was approaching a frightened puppy. Clarke looked at his messy curls and freckles. She knew she had no choice but to tell him. Maybe he could help and it would be okay. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Clarke opened the pantry and a box of cereal fell from the top shelf, the corner hitting her already bruised cheek. 

“Ahhhhh.” She hissed at the shot of pain and rose her hand to her cheek tenderly. 

“Oh my god, are you okay??” He said, jumping to Clarke’s side. He brushed his thumb over the black and purple mark and Clarke leaned into his hand. Looking into his dark eyes, she felt so safe, for once in such a long time. 

“Bellamy… I…” Clarke struggled with the words she needed. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Take your time.” Bellamy pulled her into him. Clarke didn’t want to feel hopeless and lost anymore. She needed help and even though she didn’t want it, here was a boy who she knew would do anything for her. He could help, he could make her life worth living again. 

“His name is Mason. He’s 18, like you. He’s the son of one of my parents council members, David.” Clarke felt Bellamy’s muscles clench. “They had been friends for long time so naturally, Mason and I were close when we were little. His mother left them because David was abusive. Mason learned from the best. I was so young… I didn’t know…” Clarke couldn’t keep her voice from cracking and a tear fell and splashed onto Bellamy’s hand. “He did horrible things to me. I couldn’t defend myself. After years of torment, when I was around 13, I gained enough courage and told him that I would tell my dad if he laid another finger on me ever again. He proceeded to…” Clarke’s voice quivered and she cleared her throat, pulling herself together. “...to rape me, for the first time.” Bellamy took some deep breaths. “He said if I told anyone he would lie. He got into my head, telling me that I would lose my friends if they knew that I had sex, and my parents would disown me. This kept me quiet for a year and a half until I couldn’t take it anymore and threatened to go to the police if he didn’t leave me the fuck alone. It just got worse. He would come over when my parents weren’t around, rape me then beat me over and over until I would fall unconscious. One time, after he had forced a quarter of a bottle of vodka down my throat, he kicked me and I fell down the stairs and blacked out with a concussion. When I woke up I could barely remember anything. He had told my parents that I had invited him over while I was drinking and he was worried so he came. He said he found me at the bottom of the stairs. When I was better, I got in trouble for drinking and inviting a boy over at such a late hour.” Clarke pulled away from Bellamy to see him crying. Tears fell from his eyes which were angry and darker than usual. 

“I’ll kill him.” He breathed, teeth clenched. 

“Bell…” Clarke put her hands up to his face, brushing the tears away with her thumbs. His fce softened a bit as he covered her hands with his. 

Suddenly a car light flashed over Bellamy’s face and Clarke’s stomach dropped to her feet.


End file.
